MCU: X-Men
by man of books and tv
Summary: Following the events of Civil War, the world is on Edge. Tony Stark scrambles to rebuild the Avengers. Mutants are once again figures of suspicion, targets of vigilante violence, and government discrimination. In the middle of all of this, the X-Men have been disbanded, and Xavier's School for Mutants is just that: A school.
1. Winds of Change

_June 3, 2008_

 **MARINE AND WIFE KILLED IN A PLANE CRASH**

BY J Jonah Jameson

 **A tragedy occurred last night, as a young marine and his wife crashed into dockland. Alex Summers, 37, and his wife Madelyn Pryor, 32, were taking a flight with their son, Scott Summers, 8, when strong winds, heavy storms appear to have caused their pilot to lose control, sending them spiraling into a nearby pier. Their bodies, and that of the pilot, have yet to be recovered. Many eye witnesses have claimed sightings of strange lights engulfing the plane just before the pilot lost control, but there are no sources willing to be named. They leave behind a son, Scott Summers, who was sent out of the plane moments before it crashed.**

The world had gone silent.

Everything seemed like it was moving in slow motion. Scott Summers gazed upon the billowing fire that towered other the pier, at the firefighters marching straight into the blaze. All around him, people raced about, some covered in blankets. Some were crying, eyes a deep, hazy red.

Had they lost someone too, Scott wondered.

Had their parents' lives been taken by the flames?

Scott felt the tears streak down his face, wiped them away, and huddled his blanket closer.

He closed his eyes, and he could see his mother, strapping a parachute onto his back, and opening it as she pushed him out of the plane.

"I love you." She said.

It was supposed to be a nice day out. Dad had only been back for a few weeks, taking a leave from the marines. Mommy said they would all go out for a nice flight to celebrate.

Scott used to love flying. His dad used to love taking him up, back when they lived in New York. They would fly around the mansion his father worked at, all around the seemingly endless grounds.

And now his father would never leave the ground again.

Scott's eyes began to well up again. He sniffed heavily, a weight forming in his chest.

Next to him, a lady emptied a bottle of water on her face.

Scott gawked at the bemusing display, before looking around, to see if anyone else could see what he saw.

Everybody had stopped moving.

The firemen stood still, their heroic poses now looking more comedic, hoses still pumping water into the inferno. The victims stood like statues, shock fading from their absent eyes, but lingering like on their faces like an it was painted on. The first aid workers crouched on the ground, holding the dead or dying in vice like grips, the ones on stretchers, tipping onto the ground.

And in the middle of it all, Scott squinted, was a man in a wheelchair, fingers placed firmly on his hairless temple, eyes a steely blue. Behind him stood a man, or what Scott thought was a man: it was covered head to toe in blue fur. It towered over the old man. The _beast_ wheeled the man forward. From a distance, Scott would have guessed he was a young man, but as he got closer, he showed small signs of aging: his skin had begun to wrinkle, but he wore it with dignity. The old man wore a sad smile, while the beast had a solemn expression. They seemed vaguely familiar.

They drew up in front of Scott, and the old man placed a hand on Scott's knee.

" _Hello Scott. Do you remember me?"_

He spoke without moving his lips. Scott felt a rush of pure warmth flow through him. A feeling of safety coursed through his veins, coating him, numbing him.

" _I was a friend of your father. I was his teacher."_

" _I'm here to help."_

 _May 8_ _th_ _, 2016_

They say his heart had given out. When they found him, the invincible Iron Man, lying half dead in the snow, they say his heart had given out. That wasn't his only injury, of course: his lungs had collapsed, he had multiple concussions and his arm had a fracture. But his heart, that one stayed with him. They said it was the angina. But he knew better. It was that video. The betrayal.

" _He's my friend."_

The slick slice of the shield cutting through his armor, straight into his chest.

They found him holding the shield. He was gripping it like a security blanket. He wouldn't let it go, not even when he was unconscious.

He was going to melt that _fucking_ shield.

The door chimed open.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Tony looked up from his hospital bed.

Warren Ellis, President of the United States, stood at the foot of his bed.

"We need to talk."

Tony had gone insane. That was the official verdict. The morphine and hospital smell were causing delusions.

The President sat on the side of Tony's bed.

"Well what a lovely surprise," Tony drawled, a gentle southern accent in his voice.

"Now is not the time to bullshit me, Stark. After the stunt the captain pulled in Germany yesterday, the public have been going wild. I have half the world screaming at me to answer questions, pay damages, or just have a clue what in the hell is going on. They world wants answers, Stark, but I want them first. What happened?!"

Tony blinked, taken aback by the normally quite mild president's burst of anger. He had never thought much of Ellis, he always seemed a pathetic figure, ever since he saved him from AIM. He had won an election on pro superhero sentiment, and coasted on that ever since. He was a decent president, and seemed a fairly nice guy, at least from afar. He had won points for his handling of the Latverian Crisis, and his swift intervention in Al-Mazahmiya, but during his administration, Superheroes had become the new Global Powers. He had been forced to watch, helpless, through crisis after crises, as the Avengers stomped all over the Idea of Sovereignty, or America's foreign policy, and then been forced to help cough up for the bill. The Accords were meant to be his way of taking back control.

And now that plan had blown up in his face.

"I assume you're referring to the Avengers' minor disagreement in Germany?"

The President clenched his fists, before sigh, his rage seemingly to bubble away.

"Yes, Mr Stark. That would be what I was referring to."

"Well, it is as reported. The Avengers disagreed on the Accords, which lead to a rift on how to deal with Bucky Barnes, after he was, unknown to any of us, framed by Zemo, a former member of Sokovian Intelligence forces. He sought to destroy the Avengers for our part in the Ultron incident and the Battle of Sokovia."

The President furrowed his brow.

"This is…. distressing, to say the least. What exactly happened after the bombing?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Haven't you watched the news? I'm sure CNN has a graphic about it by now."

"I want to hear it straight from the pig's mouth."

Tony raised his hand and placed it over his heart _it had stopped, Steve Rogers had killed him,_ and made a mock sigh.

"As you can see, Mr President, I am an invalid. However, if you schedule a meeting, I'm sure I can could see you...in about six months?

"Just get on with it, Mr Stark."

"After the bombing, the Captain went rogue in order to capture Sergeant Barnes. They ended up in an Altercation with the German Strike Force, which resulted in six dead officers, and 10 injured. When Sargent Barnes was brought in for Psychological evaluation. Unknown to us, Zemo had replaced the psychologist, and activated Sargent Barnes mental programming, causing to kill at least eight men, before the Captain liberated him, with the help of one Sam Wilson. I created a new squad of Avengers consisting of myself, War Machine, Vision, King T'Challa, Spider-Man and Black Widow in order to bring them into custody. The Captain had formed his own squad, in an attempt to take down Zemo, and at the airport, we had a clash."

"That's a relatively nice word for an event that destroyed a major German transport hub," the President snorted.

"Well, compared to the how our fights normally go, it wasn't that big a deal," Tony shot back. "Now, if I could continue?"

The President nodded.

"Thank you. Anyway, the Captain and Seargent Barnes escaped and headed to Siberia, where Zemo was located. Shortly afterwards, I followed on. We defeated Zemo with the help of King T'Challa, but in the chaos, they escaped again. My injuries prevented me from following them."

The President's eyes took on a strange zeal.

"How exactly were you injured, Mr Stark?"

"Zemo released five hydra super soldiers."

"The doctors told me that the cuts in your lungs were consistent with other injuries inflicted by Captain America's shield. Would you like to tell me the truth now?"

Tony gulped, which, with the state his body was in, was no mean feat.

"The Captain attacked me during his escape."

The President groaned, and put his head in his hands.

"We are fucked."

"Mr President." Tony spoke with mock indignation. "Language."

"Now is not the time for joking, Mr Stark. There is now a wanted international terrorist running around in the colours of the American flag, violating nations' sovereignty and now attacking UN operatives. Public trust in superheroes is at an all-time low. My approval ratings have practically fallen of the scale. We need to get a grip of this situation, Mr Stark. And quickly."

Tony lay uncharacteristically still, his mind buzzing.

"You need to reform the Avengers."

"Because that worked so well last time."

"We need them."

"Just like we needed Ultron." Tony flinched as he said the word.

 _All my friends, dead._

" _I'm sorry Tony, but he's my friend."_

"I've read the files, Mr Stark. I know all about Ultron."

"Then you know its not that simply. I left the Avengers to Rogers, who just most of them thrown in prison, and half of my team has either ditched me or been left crippled. The Avengers Initiative has dissolved."

"The let's make a new one. What do you need?"

Tony stared him straight in the eyes.

"Five pardons."

"I can give you four."

 _May 12_ _th_ _, 2016_

It was a horrifyingly nice day.

When Tony first visited the Raft, he had arrived in the middle of a super storm.

It had felt appropriate for the occasion. Something somber and angry.

It had reflected his mood.

Now, there wasn't a cloud to be seen. The sun beamed out across the ocean, the light dancing as it bounced of the waves. The Raft rose out of the water, all ugly black steel, like a fist piercing through the tranquility of the sea.

But there was something beautiful about it.

A promise of safety.

Tony really hated this place.

As his helicopter descended down for Landing he saw General Ross clamber out of his hole, and he had never seen anyone look at him with such venom.

"STARK! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT? HOW, IN THE NAME OF GOD, DID YOU CONVINCE PRESIDENT WARREN THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA!"

"Good morning to you too, General! I slept great yesterday, thank you for asking. It's the medication they got me on. Puts me out like a baby. You should try some, it's good for the heart."

"I'll keep that in mind. Stark, if you think you're going to take my prisoners, Stark, you have another thing coming."

Tony put his shades on.

"You know; Warren seems like a fairly reasonable guy. Why did he put a nutcase like you in charge of the State department?"

Ross growled.

"I have extensive experience with using military and diplomatic force to deal with superhuman crises."

"Do you mean the way you dealt with the Hulk. Maybe we should ask the people of Harlem what they think of your 'experience'."

Ross grabbed Tony.

"Do not play with me Stark."

He pushed Tony forward, towards the floor.

Tony caught himself, and dusted off his custom Tom Ford suit.

"This not a game, Ross. If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of my way from now."

With that, Tony spun around and clambered down into the raft, and headed straight for Prisoner Block 1.

"Well, look who's back." Clint Barton didn't even get up from his bed

"Clint. Ready to leave?"

The archer jumped to attention.

"What are you talking about, Stark?"

Tony pulls out three pieces of paper from his jacket pocket. He pulled of his sunglasses

"Sam Wilson. Clint Barton. Scott Lang."

Scott Lang perked at the mention of his name. Sam Wilson looked over curiously.

"I have three pardons, directly from the president, clearing all three of you off wrongdoing. You're all free men."

Sam blinked. "Seems I was wrong about you Stark."

Tony smirked. "Don't be mad, most people are."

Clint scowled.

"Why isn't there one for Wanda?"

Tony stiffened.

"Wanda is here at the leisure of the Sokovian government. The president has no official power to pardon her, and she was tried _in absentia_. She was charged with working with a known terrorist organisation, attempted Genocide, and several counts of manslaughter. It's unlikely that they will authorize her pardon. I have the Lawyers working on it, but it seems like a pretty open and shut case…"

"Go"

Wanda spoke for the first time in weeks, her voice weak. Tony paused, clearly perturbed by the interruption.

"Clint, do not stay for me. I will survive on my own. I always have. Go back to your family," she gave a weak smile. "Just don't forget me, alright?"

Clint nodded stoically, before turning around and wiping a tear out of his eye.

"I will come back for you." Clint looked her right in the eyes. She gave him a gentle look.

Tony coughed.

"Now that that's over, Gentlemen," Tony flipped over a panel over a keyboard, and punched in a code. The reinforced glass doors slid open, and the three man emerged from their cells. Scott's face was beginning to show a little beard, the only evidence of his weeks in captivity.

Tony passed each of them their pardons.

"These come with no strings attached. Your criminal records have been purged, your parole has been cleared," with this remark, he looked at Scott, "and your property will be returned upon exit. Clint, when we get to helipad, there will be a second helicopter waiting to take you back to your wife and kids, who had been driven mad with worry by the way, thanks for asking. As for you two," he swiftly turned to face Sam and Scott, as Clint's face crumbled, "I will offer you a choice: sign the Accords, and become part of the New Avengers Initiative. Act as part of a new, internationally supported, Law abiding team of heroes. Or retire, like Clint."

At this remark, Clint finally meet Tony's eye.

"I'm not retiring again. I already played my eighteen"

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Clint. You have a family to look after. Your kids need a father, not a superhero."

Clint growled, and stepped forward, right into Tony's face.

"I've been working that balance for years, Stark. I can't quit now. The world is more fragile than it's ever been. Someone needs to keep an eye on you morons."

"Clint, you retired of your own free will, just a year ago…"

"Yeah. Back when Cap was in charge. I have no faith in your leadership."

Tony put his sunglasses back on.

"Well, thank you for your show of support. I definitely don't want you on my team now."

Clint's hackles rose.

"You'll regret that, Stark."

"Well, I'm sure your wife won't. And, in six months' time, when you're sitting around your fireplace, drink in hand, with your little rug rats bouncing around the place, you won't either. Your helicopter's waiting upstairs."

Clint shoved past Tony, his teeth gritted.

"Well, that was awkward. Would someone like to fill me in on that relationship." Scott appeared bemused.

Tony shuddered.

"Maybe later. That is, if you sign."

Sam shook his head,

"I was against these Accords from the very beginning. My stance hasn't changed since. We shouldn't surrender so much control to other interests."

"Look, Sam, this isn't the done deal. Once we've signed them, and given the world its security back, we amend them later."

"Later isn't good enough. Tony, I wish you the best of luck, but, I want to get back to my old life, from before all this craziness. I want to go home."

Tony frowned.

"Okay. You can get in the helicopter with Clint. Tell the computer where you want to be dropped off. How about you?" and with this he pivoted to Scott.

"Are you up for it? Protecting the world? We could use a guy like on our side. You do good work in San Francisco, I read your file. Well, after I made it."

Scott looked apprehensive.

"Mr Stark, I would love too. But I haven't seen my family in weeks, and I don't think I'm ready to make a decision right now. I have to go home first."

Tony smiled.

"Sure. We can share a ride."

The view from the Raft was exquisite. That was the only positive thing Scott could think to say about the place. Sue, its food was shit, and its staff worse, but when you got to the top,with the view of the Sun over the ocean... Scott didn't think anything could beat that. Scott turned around gazed gazed at the assorted group of characters on the roof. They stood separate, Sam and Clint by a sleek, black helicopter, Tony fiddling with one that looked like something out of Star Trek. Clint noticed Scott, and gestured for Scott to come to him.

"Scott, keep an eye on him. Without supervision Tony can get..." Clint gestures to his head, and rotated his fingers.

"Sure, I mean, If I agree. Not saying I will, but if I do, I will definitely do that." Scott nodded. Clint just gazed at him for a moment, before stepping into the helicopter.

"Take care of yourself, tiny man. The world might need you someday, Avenger or no." Sam patted Scott on the back.

"Right back at you. Same for you, Mr Barton. You know, of all the prison friends I've made in my time, you two are like the third and fourth best."

Sam blinked slowly, before breaking into a smile.

"I will accept that as a compliment. Goodbye, Scott Lang."

"See you later, Sam."

The two nodded at each, and Sam hopped onto the helicopter, where Clint sat, phone held tight to his ear, crying with joy.

Scott gazed up at them as they flew away, leaving the superhero life behind for joys of home.

"Maybe they're the smart guys."

"I'm going to assume that's some in-joke that I am never going to get. Alright, where are we heading?"

"Um, Stark Tower, San Francisco is fine. I can make my way home from there."

"Alright. Hop in, Hagrid."

Scott clambered into the helicopter, gasping for a moment. Tony shot him a look.

"Yes, it is very cool. If you joined the Avengers, you could play with toys like these, every day."

Scott snorted.

"Nice try, Mr Stark."

Tony shrugged.

"Worth a try."

The two men burst out laughing.

Scott wiped a tear out of his eye.

"That wasn't that funny."

"After the past few weeks, we could all use a laugh. When you get back, what have you got waiting for you?"

"Oh, a shitty apartment, some good friends, an ex-wife, a new girlfriend, my wife's new police officer husband slash new friend, my daughter, Cassie. She's almost six. It's her birthday in a few months. She loved the Avengers. She had the whole set, but her Iron man figure was her favourite, cause it had been melted just a little bit, made all grotesque. She loves that sort of stuff."

Tony froze, his mind racing with possibilities. Finally, he turned to face Scott.

"Listen, Lang. I'm gonna make my pitch again. Sign the Accords. Join the Avengers. Become one of your daughter's heroes, maybe she'll even have you as an action figure. We can protect the world, your daughter's world."

Scott paused, musing.

"That was very manipulative of you. Effective, but manipulative."

Tony shrugged.

"I am very desperate. But I would prefer the term persuasion, not manipulation."

Scott smiled.

"I would have to see these Accords first. For all this talk, I have no idea what is in the bloody things."

Tony frowned,

"Well that is a mistake we must rectify. Fry, get Mr Lang a copy of the Accords."

"Yes, boss."

A small tablet slid out of the front seat. It landed in Scott's hands, and lit up, with the words:

 _ **The Sokovia Accords**_

Scot began to flick through the document, his eyes widening on occasion, frowning at other, and at points, nodding his head. When he was done, just before they reached San Francisco, he placed it on the seat next to him.

"You are a quick study, aren't you, Jiminy Cricket?" Tony said.

"Always have been. As for these Accords, I think they're sound, but they'll need some work." Scott still studied the pad.

"That was always the plan. The work isn't quite done but we're getting there."

Scott looked thoughtful. "I'll sign them, Mr Stark. You've got yourself a new Avenger. Now I just have to convince Hank Pym."

Tony waved way Scott's worries. "Let me deal with Hank. And please call me Tony."

Scott held out his hand, and Tony grasped it firmly.

"Welcome to the Avengers, Ant Man."

AN: To clarify, Alex Summers is Scott's father in this fic. This fic was started before XM:A when the only word on their new relation was from Matthew Vaughn, who said they were now Father and Son. I found that idea fascinating, and so kept it in anyway.

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	2. Meetings

\- **WHIH News front Special Report: Civil War Fallout-**

\- **The camera panned in over the desk, the two anchors sliding in from the sides-**

\- **Christine Everhart, Show Anchor, Will Adams, Political Correspondent: flashed across the bottom of the screen.**

\- **Christina frowned.**

\- **"Two weeks ago, the world watched in horror as the Avengers turned on each other at the Leipzig/Halle Airport, as Iron Man and his team tried to arrest known Hydra Operative, and terrorist, the Winter Soldier. Captain Steve Rogers tried to prevent his extraction twice, before completely falling off the grid. This was following the terrible incident at Lagos, where Scarlet Witch, a mutant member of the Avengers, causing 20 people to die, 14 at the scene, 6 of their injuries. 30 others were wounded. In the wake of Lagos, the UN have pressed the Sokovia Accords as a way of controlling the damage caused by these "heroes" in their misadventures."**

\- **Will rolled his eyes.**

\- **"Christina, come on. While the events at Lagos last month were tragic, to try and control all heroes is a massive over reaction. The Avengers have saved the world from so many threats, they deserve our trust. When I was in New York, Captain America saved my life. He saved my sister, Beth Adams. They are the good guys."**

\- **"So that puts them above the rule of law?" Christina shot back. "Captain America aided an international criminal, a former HYDRA operative. Two years ago, he worked for HYDRA himself. The Avenger Initiative itself was founded by HYDRA."**

\- **Will shook his head. "The Avengers were created by SHIELD. Not all of SHIELD was HYDRA. And the Captain destroyed HYDRA and SHIELD two years ago in the Battle of the Potomac. They have proven themselves again and again."**

\- **"You didn't answer my question," Christina noted.**

\- **Will hesitated. Christina smiled.**

\- **"Well, Will. Are they above the Law? Shouldn't Captain America play by the same rules as you and me, not matter how many museum exhibits they make about him? How come, Scarlet Witch, an untrained 20-year-old, was brought into the field, and how come we were never told anything about her? These people operated without rules or accountability, flying around the world violating sovereignty. They see themselves as morally superior to us all. They cannot be allowed to operate unilaterally."**

\- **Will nodded.**

\- **"Look, no one is saying that what the Captain did in Leipzig was right..."**

\- **"So you agree with me." Christina interrupted with a victorious tone. "Will, what might the political implications of Captain America's actions, especially for a President going into an election?"**

\- **Will blinked, wrong-footed by the sudden change of conversation.**

\- **"Well, it doesn't look good for President Ellis to have one of his most important pieces of Foreign and Domestic policy being undermined by a national icon. Our relationship with the world, Europe especially, has been tense recently, and Germany has become particularly frosty, especially over our intervention in Latveria. The Accords were meant to ease tensions, but due to the Captain, they will only have been exacerbated. Questions have been raised about Secretary Ross' handling of the situation, and his overall competence, especially how he dealt with Operation Gamma Strike. Some believe the President might force a resignation, to save face."**

\- **Christina stroked her chin in contemplation.**

\- **"Well, Will, you have certainly given us a lot to think about tonight." She pivoted away from him and looked straight into the camera. "With the betrayal of Captain America, public trust in Superheroes has reached an all-time low. We sent Sally Fields out to see how the public really felt."**

\- **They cut to a busy street. A pretty, blonde reporter stood in front of a bustling crowd. She walked towards the camera, microphone in hand. "After last month's events, the people of the world have lost faith in their heroes. We hit the streets of New York City, the world's superhero hub, to assess how the people really feel about these larger than life figures."**

\- **A young black lady fiddled with her cornrows. "I was out of town when the aliens attacked New York. When I got back, my apartment had been burnt down by that Thor guy. Last week, Spider-man totalled my friend's car. So yeah, I guess those guys could do with a few more restraints."**

\- **A guy in a torn up jacket frowned. "Hell yeah, they need to be controlled. Those freaks are ruining everything. They don't care about us. They are all in this together. That Scarlet Witch chick, she's a mutant. We need to exterminate all these freaks. That's why we need the Watchdogs, to get these bastards."**

\- **A boy with a jagged scar across his face. "I was on a field trip to Washington when the helicarriers fell out of the sky. One crashed on me. I hate Captain America, the Winter Soldier and SHIELD." He was crying.**

\- **Two old men stood by a coffee shop door, playing chess. "When I was a lad, I was raised on the tales of Captain America. He saved my father's life. If he broke the law, I'm sure he had a damn good reason." The other man nodded. "The man is practically a saint. He saved me, at this very coffee shop, during the invasion. I don't trust Stark. What has he ever done for people like us, the real people?"**

\- **A man with long, green striped hair, and a particularly manky beard. "All these heroes are just fascist corporate lapdogs anyway, who care which one they're working for. They're all out for themselves at the end of the day."**

\- **One boy with a black eye looked into the camera, completely confused. "I think people with the power should do whatever necessary to protect those without it. With great power comes great responsibility, that's what my uncle always used to say."**

\- **The camera cut back to Sally Fields. "So that's the word on the street. Back to YOU, Christina."**

\- **Christina smiled.**

\- **"Thank you, Sally. Earlier today, Senator Robert Kelly issued a statement..."**

 _May 28_ _th_

"Turn the stuff off, Maggie, it's driving me insane."

Maggie sighed and hit the off switch for the TV.

"It's just the news, Paxton." Her husband, Jim Paxton sat down next to her, holding a bowl of popcorn.

"It's not exactly what I had in mind when I brought the TV up here. Anyway, they never say anything newsworthy here. They just repeat old stories and bleed them dry." They kissed for a moment before Paxton picked up the remote. "Now, you wanna see what's on Netflix?"

They kissed again, longer this time, and Maggie snatched the remote out of Paxton's hand. "No more dumb action films." Paxton threw his hands up in self-defense. "You could use some culture. Or perhaps, some romance." As she said "romance" she started to tickle him. He laughed and pushed her off.

"Oh, I'll show you romance." He lay her down on the bed and started to kiss her, starting from her waist, climbing up.

Then the phone rang.

Paxton groaned."I swear if it's those goddamn telemarketers again…"

Paxton jumped out of bed, and pull the phone off the hook.

"Hello?"

"Paxton? Is that you?"

Paxton practically dead dropped the phone. Maggie gave him a concerned look.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Scott."

The phone bleeped.

"Paxton? Paxton? Are you there?"

Paxton swept up the phone.

"Well, if it isn't Scott Lang. God, it's good to hear your voice again. Please tell me I'm not hearing it from a prison cell."

Scott laughed weakly.

"No. Definitely not in a prison cell. At least, currently. No, I'm at the Stark Tower by the bay."

"Oh! You're rolling with the big leagues now. First, Captain America, now, Tony Stark. Next thing we'll know; you'll be an Avenger."

"Sure. Hey, I could you please pick me up? I left my wallet at Luis' apartment."

Paxton rolled his eyes.

"Sure. Give me an hour."

"Thanks."

The phone went dead. Paxton hung the phone back on the hook, sighed, and climbed back into bed.

"What's going on with Scott?" Maggie sat up. "Is he alright?"

"Scott's fine. Living the high life apparently. He's at Stark Tower, wanted to see if I would pick him up. I said I'd be there in an hour. I was gonna get Cassie from Sarah's house first, I would be a nice surprise for her. Him, too."

Maggie smiled.

"How thoughtful of you."

Paxton shrugged.

"Well, you know me. Always thinking about others."

Maggie gave him a wry smile.

"Sure you do. So, we have an hour, do we?"

They started to kiss, again.

* * *

The Stark Tower was beautiful.

When Cassie was younger, Scott would take her for tours around San Francisco. They would spend hours just gazing at the beautiful architecture, or sitting by the bay. But the tower was her favourite. It was pure glass and steel. It rose out of the city, towering into the clouds. In the sunlight, it shone, glimmering like a jewel. When a thunderstorm was in the air, it crackled with energy, illuminated with plasma.

Scott would have loved to have worked there, but they had rejected his straight out of university application for a position in their R&D department, so he slunk off to Vista Corp. Then he had tried to pull a Robin Hood them, got tossed into jail, and became Ant-Man. But he had never quite given up the dream of working in that Tower. He gazed out across the city, admiring the view from the CEO office. The regional manager had been unduly evicted from his office, and Tony had wandered off to the R&D labs, bored out of his mind, leaving Scott alone with the best view in the city. He had made a few calls, one to Paxton, one to Luis and one to the office food service, for a burger and fries. He hadn't had a burger in so long. When he was in the Raft, Ross would occasionally forget to have them fed.

God, he loved burgers.

Tony walked in on Scott scarfing down the burger. He gave him a sideways look. "Do you always eat like that? Because we have higher standards than that at the tower."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Let's lock you in a jail for a month, see how your manners turn out."

Tony laughed. "Oh, buddy. You have no idea. You've never been to Afghanistan. The Ten Rings are a worse prison warden than Ross could ever hope to be. But you never saw me eating like a pig with a trough"

Scott paused. He had forgotten about Tony's kidnapping. "Sorry. That was insensitive of me."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Please, it's nothing. When's your ride supposed to be getting here? Ms Johnson is gonna need her room back soon."

Scott checked his phone, a first generation iPhone. He flipped through it, searching for messages or missed phone calls, then he sighed and powered it down. Stark snatched it out of his hand as he was putting it away, earning him a "Hey!".

Stark tutted, and examined Scott's phone like it was a bag of doggy poop. "I didn't even know they made phones like this anymore."

Scott leant back in his chair, grabbing the phone out of Stark's hand. "It's cheaper than a Stark Phone. I can't exactly drop five hundred on a phone. I'm an ex-convict, so money is tight."

Tony sat on the desk. "Well, when we get back to the Avengers Compound, I'll hook you up."

Scott smiled, and the elevator door pinged open.

"DADDY!"

Tony winked at him. "I do believe that's your cue." Scott ran up to Cassie and wrapped his arms around her.

Paxton appeared a few moments later.

"Scott Lang is it good to see you!" He and Scott eyed each other nervously, before going in for the hug.

Jim looked up and saw Tony Stark sitting a few feet away. "Mr Stark, it's nice to meet you. My Jim Paxton." They shook hands. "Thank you for bringing Scott home. My wife told me to invite you to dinner."

Tony gave him a terse smile. "While dinner at the Paxton-Lang house sounds amazing, I have a meeting to get to." He looked at Scott. "Get home now, and I'll see you at Hank Pym in two hours."

* * *

Hank Pym was not a happy man.

Of course, if you knew him, this probably wasn't news; the man had been grumpy and prone to fits of temper long before he had even met Janet. The frown on his face was the same one he had when Tony first laid eyes on him, he had the same bitter gleam in his eyes, the look of a man who had spent his life being kicked while he was down. The only real difference Tony could see in him were the streaks of white in his dark brown hair. When Tony had first meet Hank Pym, he had been ten years old, and Hank was one of his scientific heroes. Howard often hosted Summer Galas for all the best scientific, corporate and governmental figures willing to help Stark industries were invited, and Tony could spend hours talking to the various science titans who attended: Franklin Storm, Mary Johns or Charles Xavier. But Hank Pym was his favourite. Hank, however, hated the Starks with a passion, so Tony normally ended up talking to Janet Van Dyne, with Hank sitting across the table from him, glaring at him with an intensity that no ten-year-old was able to handle.

"Stark."

 _Yep. Nothing has changed at all._

"Dr Pym. It's been a long time"

The two men circled each other, pacing around Hank's kitchen counter.

"Not long enough, Stark." Hank spat out Tony's name like a curse word. Hank and Howard had been competitors in life, business and SHIELD, and Hank had never won. He held a burning resentment towards the Stark name.

"So, how're tricks?"

Hank growled. "Do you have my suit?"

Tony leant back in mock confusion. "Your suit? Hank, what are you talking about?" There was a teasing lilt ringing through Tony's voice.

"My size-density alteration suit, Stark."

Tony shrugged."I'm afraid I haven't seen anything of the kind."

Hank slammed his hands on the table. "The Ant-man suit, Stark!"

Tony widened his eyes in mock realisation."OHH! That suit. The one Scott Lang was using, right?"

gritted his teeth."Yes, Stark. That one."

"Well, that is currently in the possession of the US government, as it was used in an assault on a foreign nation by a US citizen. It is fascinating, by the way. Some of the science it took to make that thing are years ahead of anything Stark Industries has been working on. I took a look at it myself. It's technological artwork. Of course, now that he has been pardoned, the suit will be returned to Mr Lang."

The look of rage on Hank's face was almost comical. Tony covered his mouth, despite to suppress his immediate urge to burst out laughing.

"That suit belongs to me, Stark. I want it back. Now."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Hank, maybe you should listen. Your suit was using in an attack on a foreign nation. And when studying your suit, and its wearer, links were found between him and last year's attack on Pym Technologies and the disappearance of its CEO, Darren Cross. And through them, a trail was found that leads up to you."

Hank hesitated, a look of fear flashing across his face.

"What do you want, Stark?"

Tony held up his hands."Nothing, Dr Pym. Just thought I would tell you."

Tony dug something out his back pocket and tossed it onto the countertop. Hank grabbed it and pulled it close for inspection. It was a holographic flash drive.

"Turn it on." Tony prompted Hank with a roll of the hand. Hank grunted and pressed the power button. It sparked to life, and Hank yelped, flinging it onto the countertop. "These are all the government's files on Ant-Man, the Pym Tech explosion and your Suit's technology. All yours."

Hank frowned."What's the catch?"

Tony shook his head."No catch. I just wanted to do you a favour. Give you time and space to cover your tracks."

Hank smirked bitterly. "So that, in the long run, I'll owe you? You Starks, always weaselling."

Tony sighed. "Look, Hank, I don't care that you doubt my motives, hell, if I cared about my reputation that much, I would never get any actual work done. You can do whatever you want with that thing, but as far as the Government is concerned, the Ant-Man suit has become their property, and they have loaned it to the Avenger initiative for the use of Scott Lang. I am here to offer you a place in that same initiative."

Hank burst out laughing. "Me? May you have noticed, Stark, but I'm not exactly the same young man who wore that suit anymore. That suit did things to me, broke me in ways you can't even imagine. I wasn't a spring chicken when I first put on the thing, but now? No, Stark, I ain't a superhero. Nor am I an Avenger."

Tony sat on the countertop and rolled his eyes. "Hank, I wasn't expecting you to put on Spandex and fight aliens with me. I want you to join the Initiative as a Scientific Advisor. With all your superhero experience, let alone your scientific wisdom, you would be a tremendous asset to the team."

Hank snorted. Tony could see the disbelief in his eyes, the mistrust. But also the hope, the inspiration. Tony watched them battle it out, through that windows in Hank's eyes.

It was quite mesmerising.

"What's the deadline for application?" Hank interrupted Tony's thought process, pulling him smack bang into the real world of Hank's drab kitchen.

"The Avengers meet in Vienna to sign the Accords in two weeks."

Hank nodded, then sagged, leaning on the counter. It suddenly crossed Tony's mind just how much Hank had aged. He wondered if his dad would be the same if he was still around.

"Then, that's when you'll have my answer."

And with that comment, Tony was pretty sure of what that answer would be.

* * *

"What does he want, Scott?" Hope struck an aggressive tone.

 _Anti-Stark sentiment must really run in the family._

Scott had been escorting Tony to meet Hank, when Hope had ambushed him, dragging him away. She flipped out at him for disappearing for weeks on end, for not calling her as soon as he got back, and especially for getting involved with Stark. Hope had been all for the Accords until she realised Stark supported them. That had made her change her tune quickly enough.

"He just wanted to offer me a job."

"'Just' my ass! He wants you to be an Avenger! That's not 'just' anything!"

Scott shrugged helplessly.

"He offered me a full pardon, and a well-paying job, where I could help people! What was I supposed to do?"

Hope punched him in the arm.

"How about, and this is an idea, not working for Stark?! You know what his father did to our family. Never trust a Stark."

Scott's face hardened, disappointment evident in his eyes. He shook his head in disgust.

"Hope, you haven't even met the guy. Or his father for that matter. You don't know them. How can you judge a person before you've even met them?"

Hope groaned and placed her head in her hands, exasperated.

"Scott, you wouldn't understand. People like Stark, they aren't worth it! These Accords are just another way for him to have control, just like with Ultron. Ant-Man can join the 'New Avengers' if he wants, but Wasp won't be joining him." And she spun around and stalked out.

Scott slumped into the chair by the kitchen door before Tony opened the door, took two steps out and shot him a smirk.

"Well, I think that went well. If all goes according to plan, Hank Pym will be onside by this time next week," Tony paused, seeing the look on Scott's face. "What's wrong, buddy?"

Scott shook his head. "I and Hope had an argument."

Tony winced."Yeah, I know how that feels."

"It was about you."

"Oh. I also know how that feels."

The two men stood together, in the front hall of Hank Pym's mansion, and considered love, life, and the many troubles that come along with Tony Stark. It was very uncomfortable.

"We should go," Tony eventually muttered after a far too long silence.

"Yeah." Scott agreed quickly.

They ambled out the door, locked in step.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

"You're going home. I have a lot of work to do before the between unveiling, and you have a lot of catching up to do. Go, see your friends, hang out with your daughter. I'll call."

Scott smiled. "So, where are you going?"

"Somewhere I haven't been in a while. See ya, Scotty."

The two men walked away from each, Scott to catch a Taxi, Tony triggering FRIDAY on his Stark Watch.

"Yes, Boss?"

"FRIDAY. Call the helicopter. Set a course for the Avengers Compound. Oh, and prepare the Avengers Tower."

"What levels, Boss?"

"All of them, Fry."He smirked."The Avengers are going home."

* * *

" **In other news, riots have erupted in Sokovia, with people burning effigies of Scarlet Witch. The rioters blame her, and Tony Stark, for the incident and the fallout from last year."**

Hank McCoy turned off the radio. "Maybe, something lighter, Professor," Hank said. "Less Morbid."

The old man in the back offered Hank a sad smile. He seemed younger than he was, with smooth skin, and crisp blue suit. He had baby blue eyes, the kindest eyes you ever saw, but there was a coolness to them, a steel that could scare even the stoniest hearts. He was completely bald. He was also in his late seventies.

And he was accompanied by what most onlookers would decry as a monster.

Hank McCoy was 6'2, and almost completely covered in blue fur, apart from his face, for which a finer layer of skin would have to do. If a chimpanzee and a bear had a baby, it would probably look like Hank. To say he drew odd looks would be an understatement; usually an appearance from

Hank would result in screams on a good day. But Hank was the gentlest, kindest soul Charles had ever met, and he had been Charles' oldest friend, apart from Erik, who they rarely discussed.

And now his Professor's kind eyes were turned in him.

"It's alright, old friend. It upsets me, too. But we cannot shy away from it, Hank. The world is changing."

Hank sighed. "Yes, it is. Back into the 1980s. I thought we left all this nonsense behind us. I thought we were finally being accepted by the world, but now..."

Charles finished Hank's thought for him.

" _But now, you're not so sure. It is only human of you to have doubt, Hank, just like it only human of these 'Watch Dogs' or rioters to fear us, or to be angry at the state of their lot. But we must push forward, if not for ourselves and the ones we've lost, then for the cause."_

Hank nodded.

 _For the Cause._

And with that, they returned to a comfortable silence, Hank fiddling with the radio with one hand, controlling the wheel with the other while Charles read his notes. In the background, the news flickered through the air, presenting snapshots of a changing world.

" **Senator Robert Kelly reaffirmed his stance today, to use the Accords as a springboard to full Superhuman Registration. At a New York rally today…"**

" **Tony Stark was spotted in San Francisco, today. The multi-billionaire superhero has been on radio silence since his mysterious two-day disappearance following the civil war…"**

" **Bolivar Trask has been given the Nobel Prize in Robotics today, for his work on the Sentinel Units…"**

And, in between, the thoughts of the neighbourhood drifted in. In his mind's eye, he could see them

 _I wonder if it's infected._ A woman poked away an oddly scaled cut on her shoulder in the bathroom mirror.

 _I hope he falls off that ladder. Asshole._ A young male cyclist glared at an overweight, middle-aged man, who had thrown a bottle of beer at his head, forcing him to swerve into the road.

 _Why can't she just be normal?_ A woman with red hair, dressed in a sharp pantsuit, gazed up at the ceiling, which was covered in scorch marks, as a potted plant began to hover over a table.

" _Hank, pull over._ We're here."

* * *

 _Control it, Jean. Control. Get it together._

A young girl splashed water on her face, shocking herself back to reality. She stared at the mirror in front of her, a pair of soft green eyes staring back, bright red hair hanging down the sides of a pretty, pale face. Jean could feel it stirring inside her, the power - and she pushed it down. The voices whispering in her ear quietened. She breathed a sigh of relief and slumped down onto the toilet seat. She could hear the front door open. Her guests were here.

"Just breath, breath."

"Jean!" Her mother hollered from downstairs.

"I'm coming." Jean sighed, dried her face, and descended down the stairs.

She found her mother standing at the bottom of the stairs and the disapproval was clear on her face.

 _Why couldn't you just be normal? I don't want a freak for a daughter._

Jean winced. Even trying her hardest, she could never tune out her mother's mind. They shared the unbreakable bond between mother and daughter, meaning that Jean now had a twenty-four-hour stream of abuse coming her way, from a woman who claimed to love her. Her mother would never say those things to her face but behind the mask,

" _There is more to your mother than you know."_

 _Who said that?_ Jean thought.

Her mother grabbed her shoulder.

"Alright Jean, here's the deal. We have guests, guests that can help you. So please, try and stay in control. Also, one of them is a little… Strange. It was a shock to me too, but do try to be polite."

Jean kept her face neutral and nodded.

The guests walked through the door together, and Jean's heart almost stopped.

Sullivan, from Monsters Inc., was sitting in her living room, wearing a suit, tie and glasses and drinking tea. He smiled at her, and waved, before taking another sip from an incredibly dainty cup.

" _It's okay, my dear. Hank here is a friend."_

Jean spun around to face an old man in a wheelchair. He smiled at her, and suddenly, Jean felt a great feeling of calm and reassurance wash over her. She offered him a nervous smile, and he pushed himself towards her, reaching out to shake her hand. She reached out and grabbed his hand, and she shook it.

"Hello, Jean. My name is Charles Xavier," _and like you, I am a telepath._

Jean gasped, and her mother shot her a sharp look.

"Jean!" she spoke through her teeth. "Manners, please."

 _Do stop being such a disappointment._

Jean felt her eyes begin to water. Charles Xavier gave her a concerned look, and immediately, her mind was buffeted with a sense of warmth and love.

"Who are you?"

" _I am the headmaster of a school for people with exceptional gifts, much like you and I. I have come to offer you a place there."_

Jean made a nervous face. " _You don't want me. I'm… dangerous."_

Charles smiled, and she could feel his amusement coursing through her. " _You're not a danger, Jean. you just need to learn control of your powers. At my institute, I can help you develop it. Anyway, we have more dangerous students than you, trust me."_

" _I do."_ And she did. She didn't know why, but she trusted him

"Mrs Grey, maybe we can get down to business?" Charles threw her mother a smile, and mother sent one straight back and sat down on the loveseat. Charles gestured at a different couch, inviting Jean to sit down.

"Now, Mrs Grey, you called me about a week ago about Jean's abilities. Please, tell us the full story."

Her mother nodded, cleared her throat, and signalled to Jean.

"Well, about a year ago, I started hearing voices in my head," Jean faltered, turning around to face her mother, who nodded. _Just get it over with._

Jean turned back around and gulped. "I started hearing voices in my head. At first, I thought I was losing my mind, but then I realised they were the voices -."

"Of the people around you, right?" Charles interrupted, with an old sense of nostalgia and familiarity floating off him. Jean nodded furiously.

"Yeah, exactly. Suddenly, I could predict what people were gonna say before they say it, I could hear the teacher say the answers to questions before they asked. I could…"

"You could read people's minds?" The Professor guessed, but then, he already knew.

"Yes. But that was just where it started. A few months after that, I started moving things without touching them."

"Telekinesis," Hank whispered under his breathe. "Rare."

"And, most recently, the burnings started."

At this, the Professor began to stroke his chin, and Jean paused to look at him. seem scared, just thoughtful. He would be the first person to be scared of her in months.

Her mother picked up the story from there, wary of the pause that was developing.

"Recently, Jean has been… boiling things is the best way I can put it. Even solid objects. They get super hot, and start to bubble and melt."

Charles broke into a fascinated smile "Telepathy, telekinesis, and some form of pyrokinesis. You, Miss Grey, are quite the talent."

Jean blushed. "Thank you, sir."

Her mother frowned. "Well, Professor, can you help her? Can you make it stop?"

The Professor turned to face her mother. "Mrs Grey, I cannot stop, or get rid of your daughter's abilities. Even if I could, I wouldn't. Your daughter's powers are a natural part of her. She should learn to control it, not fear it."

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Spare me the "Conceal, don't feel," bull crap. If you can't stop these powers, what can you do?"

Hank and the Professor exchanged quizzical looks.

" _Professor, why did she call if she didn't know what you do?" Jean projected her thought into the Professor's mind._

" _Some parents never truly accept it. They always want me to change their child, to 'fix them". They never see the value of acceptance."_

"Mrs Grey, I am here to offer Jean a place at Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, a first-rate educational facility for young people with special abilities derived from the X-gene. We will help Jean gain control over her powers while providing her with some of the best education in the country."

Her mother pretended to mull over the offer, but in her mind was practically bursting with joy at the thought of getting rid of her daughter. Jean could feel tears well up in her eyes.

" _Jean. I know it looks bad, but you must look deeper into her mind, past the surface consciousness."_

Jean shook her head.

" _I don't want to see what that woman has deeper inside herself."_

"How much will it cost? The school, I mean."

Charles pulled a leaflet out of his blazer pocket. "The school is open for free residency all year around, but in the regular school terms, we have a small 10-dollar fee."

Mrs Grey was shocked. "10 Dollars?! That's it?"

Charles nodded, clearly enjoying being back in control again. "We are mostly funded by a variety of donors, but mostly the Xavier Remembrance Foundation."

Jean's mother started tapping her fingers against the armrest. "When can she start?"

* * *

 _June 1_ _st_

Once again, the attention of the world had descended on Vienna.

The streets were packed. Reporters from every corner of the globe, speaking in every language, all about one thing.

The New Avengers.

Tony led Scott and Vision, who pushed Rhodey's wheelchair, through the throngs of reporters who had gathered around the UN building, desperate to get a picture of the new heroes who would be protecting their world and desperate to find out what the post-Captain America's Avengers would look like. They were anxious to get a quote from Tony Stark, or the mysterious Ant-Man or the robotic Vision.

"Is it always gonna be like this?" Scott raised a hand over his eyes, trying to shield them from the flashing camera lights.

"Mr Stark, where is Black Widow?"

"Mr Lang, what is your connection to the previous Ant-Man? Have you meet him?"

"Mr Stark, where is Spider-Man? Is he not signing?"

Tony spun around. A hush fell over the crowd

"The Avengers will happily take any questions from the press during the press conference after the Signing Ceremony. Thank you."

The reporters began buzzing, but The Avengers pushed forward into the Vienna Centre.

Unseen, someone slunk up next to Stark. "Tony. It's good to see you"

Tony nearly jumped but played it off as if he was simply pausing mid-stride. "Nat. Didn't expect to see you here. Thought you would still be hanging around with the old Captain."

"I don't care about what you think about me, Tony. I'll support the Accords, with or without you."

They pushed the doors open and stared each other down in the reception.

Tony held up his hands. "There's no need for that. Didn't you get my message? You did get the pardon?"

Natasha tilted her head and gave him a look. "How did you even know how to find me?"

Tony crossed his arms. "I believe that the correct response is "Thank you."

Natasha steeled her gaze. "Answer the question, Stark."

Tony smirked. "A mutual friend helped me bridge the gap. You've been public too long, Black Widow, you've lost your edge."

Natasha closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Fury." The name was a curse on her lips.

"Sorry, but I don't kiss and tell."

Scott coughed awkwardly. Tony glanced his way, and Scott jerked his head towards the stairwell which led to the assembly hall.

Tony nodded at him, and Scott, Rhodey and Vision started up the stairs.

"Look, Nat, I didn't get you pardoned so that we could argue. I need you on my team. So," Stark stuck out his hand, Natasha eyed it with suspicion. "what do you say?"

Natasha arched an eyebrow."Well, if you're sure you can trust me?" Her voice was cold.

Tony sighed, and his shoulders slouched. "Alright, I deserved that. I'm sorry, I was out of line. Bygones?" Tony smiled at her, all charm.

Nat didn't respond, simply turning away and climbing up the stairs. Tony followed. T'Challa met them at the top of the hadn't seen the young King since Sokovia when he had rescued him from the ruins of his own armour, but the young man seemed unchanged from their last encounter. He stood tall, with wide shoulders, and a solemn smile on his lips. But his eyes had aged. A month ago they had burned with rage, they had hungered for vengeance. Now, they were weighed down with worry, their vibrancy tempered with authority and sadness.

"Your Majesty." Rhodey greeted him first, reaching out and shaking his hand.

"Captain Rhodes, it's good to see you again." He looked around at the group before his gaze settled on Natasha. "Agent Romanov, it's been too long,"

She smiled at him. "Far too long, Your Majesty." Her voice had gone soft.

The delegates began to flood in. A few acknowledge the Avengers as the past, but most just ignored them while looking for their seats, catching up with friends, or combing over the latest version of the Accords.

T'Challa caught Tony's eye. "Mr Stark, it is good to see you well."

"It feels good to be well." Tony flashed him a smile that he hoped seemed charming, but it mostly felt forced. "I didn't get to thank you for saving my life."

T'Challa waved him off. "It was nothing, really. Teammates help each other, do they not? Seeing you back in full health is enough for me."

"Well, it's not enough for me." Tony started rummaging around his pockets, patting himself down. "I know it's here somewhere. Ha!" He pulled a card out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to T'Challa, who gave it a bemused look.

"An Avengers membership card?"

"And communicator. Anytime you need us, we'll be there. I know you're probably too busy for full membership, being a king and all, but we'll keep a spot open for you. If you want it, you can be an Avenger."

T'Challa became contemplative, stroking his chin. He had clearly been working to grow a beard, but it wasn't working for him. For a moment, Tony wondered if he was going to turn it down. Tony was no great salesman, that what the sales department was for, and he had a bad habit of alienating people. Cap had been better at pitching the team to people, but then Cap had been better at everything. Howard had always thought so.

 _Sergeant Barnes?!_

 _Did you know?_

 _I don't care, he killed my mother!_

Tony's hand began to shake.

"Thank you, Mr Stark, I am honoured. I would be happy to join the team."

And the shaking stopped.


End file.
